


Moonwort

by cellostiel



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Badass Katara (Avatar), Canon Compliant, Coming Out, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Menstruation, Trans Female Character, Trans Katara (Avatar), Trans Male Character, Trans Zuko (Avatar), Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellostiel/pseuds/cellostiel
Summary: "You've been acting weird." she says. "Even for you.""I don't know what you're talking about." Zuko tries, and he really wishes she'd drop it and leave him alone because the pain is still there, a white-hot stone burning in his gut, and he's having trouble keeping his composure."Is it- your condition?""It's nothing." Zuko says. "It's fine.""Well, which is it?" Katara asks, folding her arms and raising a brow. "It's either nothing or it's fine, but it can't beboth.So?"~Zuko runs out of his medicine, and he does what he usually does: tries to hide the pain and grit his teeth through the hell week ahead of him. Luckily Katara sees right through his bullshit.
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 763





	Moonwort

**Author's Note:**

> Hi yes there's not Nearly enough trans Zuko fic on here and this is me making an effort to fix that. Also I'm Absolutely fudging some fantasy HRT rules here but do I care? No. There's lionturtles that can Energybend and spirit water that can heal fatal wounds, you can't prove that there aren't medicinal plants that can be used for HRT in the right combination. 
> 
> Anyway since I realized I didn't really make it clear in the fic: this takes place during the gaang's time on Ember Island, in some nebulous time before Aang disappears and the finale really starts to kick off. 
> 
> Also: I'm transmasc myself, which I feel is important to note on a fic where a transmasc character deals with menstruation, since that can easily get Weird when a cis person writes it (not their fault usually, but, you know how it is) and I want to put any trans readers at ease if that's something they were concerned about.
> 
> So!! That being said!! Please enjoy!

Zuko really does  _ not _ need another reminder of how much the universe hates him. 

His father's line about how he was lucky to be born rings in his ears, but even that is laughable: there is nothing  _ lucky _ about the way he was born. Even aside from his body being wrong. His mother's labor with him was a long and difficult one, and probably why, when it was Azula's turn, she had to be cut out of their mother. He knows his sister still resents him for that. She resents him for a lot of things. 

His breath control helps. The pain comes, and he breathes through it, and then it leaves again. He'd rather not have the pain at all, but beggars can't be choosers. 

It's his own fault that it came back: he waited too long to restock the herbs he needs, and when he finally tried to get more, he couldn't find any at the town they'd stopped at. He winces, remembering how he'd almost blown up at the poor woman working the medicine stall. He caught himself in time and apologized, but he still hates how easy it is for his anger to get the better of him. 

Okay, enough. He needs to stop dwelling on this. There's nothing he can do about it, and it will be gone in a week, anyway. Hopefully he can restock before next month. If they're still alive by then, that is. 

Zuko shifts his stance, starts his next set of firebending drills. He's been incorporating what he and Aang learned from the sun temple into his moveset, and so far he's been getting good results. Firebending is so different now, but he… he likes it. It feels like when Lu Ten would spar with him, when Zuko was bright-eyed and clumsy but felt the fire moving with him like a companion, like a friend. He hadn't realized he'd lost that, hadn't noticed when fire became just a tool for him to use. 

The fire moves with him now, heat thrumming in his veins and breath coming out as clouds of smoke, and Zuko doesn't feel like he's moments away from losing control and burning himself up from the inside out.

The pain comes again, and his movements stutter more than they should. He's out of practice. He used to be able to endure it without flinching, without anyone knowing. 

The pain lingers. It does that, sometimes, but usually not this long. He can feel a sweat breaking out on his temples, and one of his breaths comes out as a hiss. It's fine. He can push through it. He's done it before, and he'll do it again. 

"Zuko?" Katara calls out. Zuko follows through on one last move, then returns to start. He looks at her, and her brow is pinched in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." he says, and hopes that his training is a good excuse for why he sounds so short on breath. 

She doesn't look like she believes him. "You've been acting weird." she says. "Even for you." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Zuko tries, and he really wishes she'd drop it and leave him alone because the pain is still there, a white-hot stone burning in his gut, and he's having trouble keeping his composure.

"Is it- your condition?" She'd been the one to witness his outburst at the medicine stand, and he'd been vague when she asked him about it, citing a condition that he needed medicine for, but assuring her that it wasn't something she should worry about. 

"It's nothing." Zuko says. "It's fine."

"Well, which is it?" Katara asks, folding her arms and raising a brow. "It's either nothing or it's fine, but it can't be  _ both _ . So?"

Katara can be so  _ infuriating _ . Zuko can feel his anger bubbling up, pouring molten over his tongue and dying to lash out, but he bites it down. He's trying to be better, and part of being better is not attacking people for being concerned about you.

Zuko closes his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. "It's nothing." he decides. "I'm okay. Thank you for your concern." 

She looks him over dubiously. Zuko holds himself tall, steadfastly ignoring the pain, but then it leaves, and he can't help the soft breath of relief he lets out, or the slight slump of his shoulders. From the way Katara's gaze sharpens, he knows she saw it. 

"Zuko," she says slowly, in that tone that speaks to having had to be a caretaker of many for a long time, even at her young age. "You shouldn't be pushing yourself like this if you're in pain." 

"I'm not in pain." Zuko argues, thinking he'll get away with it because it's technically true; he's not in pain at the moment. Katara's glare tells him he's entirely unsuccessful.

"Zuko, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

"Well, maybe I don't want your help!" Zuko snaps. He immediately hates himself. But what else is new?

Katara huffs out a breath through her nose. Zuko expects her to yell at him for being a stubborn idiot and stomp off, but instead she takes in another breath - one that looks suspiciously like one of Aang's meditating breaths - and squares her shoulders. 

"Zuko." she says, cool as a glacier, and it sends a chill down his spine. "I want you to be honest with me. Are you refusing my help because you really don't want it, or because of some bullshit your father drilled into you?" Zuko swallows. He doesn't want to answer that, but Katara's gaze is unwavering.

"I should be able to deal with this on my own." he finds himself saying. "I shouldn't need anyone else's help."

Katara's gaze softens, if only slightly. "Did your uncle help with this?" 

"… yeah."

She steps forward, rests a hand on his arm. "Then let me help, too." For a moment, her face is illuminated by blue-green light, and she's holding out a vial of spirit water, offering him a kindness that he doesn't deserve. 

"Okay." he says, throat tight. 

They go up to the house, and Katara closes the door to Zuko's room while he sits down on his bed. She pulls a chair over and sits across from him, then just… waits. She seems to understand how difficult a subject this is for him, and for that, he's grateful.

"Please don't ask me to give specifics." he says, to begin. "I can- I can try to answer what you need to know to help, but-" His hands curl into fists on his knees. "I can't answer everything."

"Alright." Katara says softly. "Are you in pain now?" 

The pain started up again as they were walking over here. "Yeah." 

"Can you show me where?" 

Zuko closes his eyes, shifting to lay down on the bed. Katara moves to sit on the edge of the mattress, and Zuko has to cover his eyes with his arm, hiding his face. This is going to suck. 

He taps his abdomen, and he hears Katara uncorking her waterskin. "Can I lift your shirt?" she asks. Zuko nods, and he feels her move his shirt out of the way so she can press the water directly to his skin. He hates this. He really, really hates this. But he does still want her help. 

"How much can you, um." He stops, throat clicking as he swallows. "How much can you tell, from that?" He's not sure he wants to know, but he asks anyway. 

"Not much." Katara says. "I can feel that the pain is coming from your muscles here, and that they're really tense, but I can't tell what's causing it." The water is cool on his skin, and it is easing the pain, somewhat. "This condition of yours… can you tell me more about it?"

He's going to have to tell her, isn't he? That's… it wouldn't be so bad, her knowing, he thinks. It was nice having Uncle Iroh know, sometimes. It made him feel less alone. But  _ telling her? _ His gut churns. 

"It's… complicated." A lie. Well, kind of. It's not complicated for other people, but this is Zuko, so it's complicated. "I usually take medicine that… stops it. But I ran out. So, until I can get more, this will keep happening."

"It comes and goes, right? The pain." 

"Yeah. For… about a week or so at a time."

"How often?"

"… every month." 

Katara doesn't react to that like he expects: she hums thoughtfully, asks, "Any other symptoms?"

"Nausea. Fatigue. Headaches." Azula really was born lucky: she doesn't have to deal with  _ any _ of this, just a few days of having to take extra baths. "And…" He hates this. He  _ hates _ this. "Bleeding." 

"Bleeding?" Katara gasps. "Where?"

"It hasn't started yet." One of the few things he can be thankful for right now. "It's- Katara, please." His voice is shaking, and he feels pathetic, but he says, "Don't make me say it." 

"Say what?" Katara asks, confused. "Zuko, I don't know what you're talking about."

Zuko grits his teeth, says, "If you, or Toph, or Suki had these symptoms, what would your first thought be?" 

Katara is silent, presumably thinking. Zuko wants the bed to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. 

Finally, Katara lets out a soft, "Oh." 

"Yeah." Zuko says miserably.

"Well," Katara says, and she sounds unusually awkward. "I, um, wouldn't have these symptoms. Just so you know. I couldn't." He shifts his arm, peering at her. She's focusing overly hard on her waterbending, but after a moment she meets his gaze. "Guess we have more in common than I thought." 

"Yeah." he says numbly. "Huh." 

Katara turns back to her waterbending, and Zuko replaces the arm over his eyes. 

"So," Katara says, "what herbs do you need?"

"Huh?"

"To make your medicine. What herbs do you need?"

"Oh. Um. I… have everything except for one. Moonwort." 

"Okay." Katara removes her hands, and Zuko hears the water slosh back into the waterskin. She stands, and he drops his arm to look at her. "Stay here." she says, and leaves the room. Zuko stares after her, extremely confused, but does what he's told.

Katara comes back with another waterskin and a cast iron teapot, and kneels in front of the fireplace near the bed. Zuko watches, bewildered, as she pours the contents of the waterskin into the pot, then lights a fire and sets the pot over it.

"When that heats up," she says, standing. "I want you to pour the water back in here and hold it against your stomach. It'll help relax your muscles and should tone down the pain." She holds out the waterskin, and Zuko belatedly realizes she's handing it to him.

"Okay." he says, taking it.

"Good. Now, I'll be back in a few hours." She starts tying up her hair, and Zuko stares at her. "In the meantime, just-"

"Wait. Where are you going?"

She looks at him like it should be obvious. "I'm going to go get some moonwort."

Zuko gapes at her. "Why?" 

"You need it." she says simply. "As I was saying, in the meantime, just stay here and rest. I'll ask Suki to bring you something to eat."

"Why?" Zuko murmurs.

"You need to keep your strength up to-"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" 

Katara stills her motions, staring at him. Slowly, she lets her hands drop to her sides. "The things that have happened… the things that you've done, that the fire nation has done… I don't blame you for your father's actions, but it's… hard, sometimes. To look at you and see  _ you _ rather than… well. You know. But you've proven that you're trying to change, that you're trying to be better. I can't really fully forgive you yet, and I'm not sure if I ever will. I think, though… that I can admit that I care about you. I don't know if we're friends, but I do know that I care about what happens to you. So, I'm going to help you, Zuko."

Zuko has no idea what to say to any of that. Luckily, he doesn't have to come up with anything, because Katara continues: "Also, even if I still hated you, I'd still do this for you. Because I know how much it sucks to have to fight against your own body, and no one should have to endure that." 

He swallows, thickly. "Thank you." 

Katara smiles softly, says, "Get some rest, alright? I'll be back." 

She leaves, and Zuko stares up at the ceiling, carefully not thinking about anything. At length, he gets up to check the water, and deems it hot enough to be poured into the waterskin. He lies back down and presses it against his stomach, and- the relief has him sinking against the mattress, eyes falling shut as he sighs. Remind him to do something extra nice for Katara later. Maybe he can offer to take some extra cooking or laundry duty, even though he's not very good at either. (Not for lack of trying; and Iroh was always so patient with him, smiling his way through Zuko's tantrums and simply saying they would try again later. If they survive, if Iroh wants anything to do with him after all this, Zuko has so much to make up for.)

Suki finds him curled around the heated waterskin, and she sets a tray of food on the bedside table. He thanks her quietly, and she smiles and offers to bring a second waterskin for when the one he has goes cold.

"Try to eat, okay?" Suki says as she's leaving. 

When the pain leaves him next, he makes himself sit up and pull the tray into his lap so he can force some food down. Iroh always chided him for not eating enough (in general, but mostly when he was dealing with  _ this) _ . He can only make himself eat about a third of what Suki brought him, but it still helps. Luckily the nausea doesn't usually start until the bleeding does. 

Suki brings him another waterskin as promised, and even sets the kettle up for him. He thanks her again, and there's something in her smile this time that he can't place.

"You're not used to people doing nice things for you, are you?" she says.

"No." he admits. "Not really." 

"Well, better  _ get _ used to it." She says it brightly, but it somehow feels like a threat. Not a  _ bad _ threat, just… aggressively caring. 

Zuko just nods, and Suki gives a pointed look to his partially eaten meal before she leaves again.  _ That plate better be empty next time I see it, _ that look says. Are all girls this scary, or does Zuko somehow just have a penchant for being surrounded by scary girls? 

He's not sure when he dozed off, but Katara has to shake him awake when she returns. The waterskin has gone cold.

"Here." She already has the other waterskin prepared, and trades him for the cold one. "Sorry to wake you. I figured you'd want to take your medicine as soon as possible, though."

"Mm." Zuko confirms. "Thanks."

"Where are the other ingredients? I'll get them."

"I can make it myself." Zuko says, sitting up with some effort. His nap has left him sweaty, gross, and disoriented, and on top of that his body has decided that it's a great time for the fatigue to set in. "You've done more than enough."

"Maybe," Katara says. "But I'm still going to help. Where are they?"

Zuko guides her to the pouch in his bag that holds his medicines and tools, and she sits next to him and listens intently as he walks through how he prepares the concoction. It's pretty simple, actually, mostly measuring things out, but the moonwort does take some special preparation to make sure it mixes in properly.

"Then all I have to do is brew it and drink it." he says, pouring the mixture from the mortar into the usual pouch he keeps it in. 

"What does it taste like?" Katara asks, getting up to get out a tea cup for him. Zuko grimaces.

"Mud."

"How often do you have to drink it?"

"If I've gone too long without it, then it's every day for about a week. After that, every few days is enough." 

Katara hums, taking the teapot from the fire as Zuko takes out his measuring scoop and doles out a dose into the cup. She pours for him, and he watches the water flash orange before quickly turning a murky brown. He's been doing this for five or six years now, but the visual proof that he didn't mess up the mixing still pulls a breath of relief out of him.

He downs the tea in a few large gulps, suppressing his shudder until he's swallowed the last of it and set the cup aside. "Thank you." he says. "I still have to deal with…  _ it _ for the next few days, but… just knowing that I can avoid it at least for the next time… it helps."

Katara smiles, then socks him in the shoulder, hard enough to make him sway. "Next time, tell us  _ before _ it gets to this point." she says.

"I will." Zuko says, sheepish. "Sorry."

Katara sighs, pulling her hair back out of its ties. "I know you can't exactly just rest until it's over, and I doubt you would anyway. Just… at least for the rest of today. And don't push yourself too hard."

"I can do that."

"Good. Also, your cover story is that you have an irritable bowel that acts up sometimes." Embarrassing, but he appreciates it. Also, Katara humiliating him helps counter the discomfort he feels from her being so nice to him. 

"But, you know," Katara continues, "if you wanted to tell them the truth, it would be okay. You might be surprised by how okay it is."

"I'll… think about it." Zuko says, and finds that he means it more than he'd expected to. "Thank you, Katara."

Katara smiles, says, "What are friends for?" and something warm settles in Zuko's chest. Friends. What a foreign concept for him. But also a nice one. One he wants to do his best to deserve.


End file.
